


A Series of Early Mornings

by illuicient



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2240976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illuicient/pseuds/illuicient
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This will eventually be a collection of short, unbetaed, pre-slash ficlets. Fluff immanent.<br/>The first starts out with John's average morning off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 7:15 am

John padded down the narrow stair, the wood creaking beneath his slippered feet as he leaned on the handrail for a moment, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck. His shoulders were stiff from the long shift the day before. He paused at the foot of the steps to tie his robe closed, frowning at the slight chill.

It was still early but the flat was bright and the air in the room fresh and brisk. Sherlock had wedged his chair between the desk and the bookshelf and was silently sitting in front of the window. The open window. In his pajamas, in November, again. John chewed at his lower lip, crossing the room.

Sherlock was leaning over his hands, his eyes half-lidded and a bit unfocused. His silk robe was untied, hanging off of one of his shoulders and most of it was crumpled underneath him. His breathing and pulse were normal, the skin of his wrist cool. Mind-palace, then.

John leaned over, following the man’s view. He was apparently staring at the dingy brick of the building across the street. A gaggle of school children passed below, their shouts and giggles floating into the air. The chilly morning breeze blew in, easily going through John’s bath robe. Right. He straightened with a sigh, leaning over and pushing the window closed.

John looked down at his silent flatmate. The action had done nothing more than blow a curl of hair out of place, so that it stuck up, rather comically in a fluff above his temple. John exhaled a hint of mirth at its expense and with a shake of his head he went to turn the kettle on.

He shuffled back a few minutes later to carefully press a steaming mug of tea between Sherlock’s lax hands. They accepted it, curling around the hot porcelain. John’s lower back popped as he bent down, lifting his flatmate’s cool ankles and slipping a house shoe on each white foot. He pulled the blanket from the back of his armchair and slid it over the man’s shoulders, tucking it around the nape of his neck. John’s palm hovered over his friend’s back as he hesitated. The man was silent, the steady rise and fall at his collar his only movement.

With a quiet huff, John’s mouth curled as he patted Sherlock’s shoulder and let it rest there for a moment. He leaned a bit closer, smoothing the errant curl down with his thumb, the movement brushing along the warm skin of his temple. Sherlock blinked once, slowly.

"Good morning, Sherlock." John gave his shoulder another pat before shuffling over to his armchair.

"Mmm. Morning, John." Came the quiet reply with the sound of a leisurely sip.

John smiled into his tea.


	2. 1:45 am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tiny snippet of life inside 221B.

"Sherlock," John groaned, tying his robe around his middle and rubbing his bleary eyes. He was groggy enough to nearly miss the last stair step. "It’s a quarter to two in the morning. This is the third time this week."

Sherlock paused, mid-note, his bow raised. Frowning, he blinked, looking slightly puzzled, his mind still locked in his thoughts.

John sighed with relief, glad the slippery-sounding, sliding noises had stopped.

He watched as Sherlock placed the bow on the table beside him, but kept his violin under his chin. He wasn’t finished then. John shook his head and shuffled into the kitchen, intent on having some tea.

"Pizzicato please," He sighed and was rewarded with a quietly plucked melody.


End file.
